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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28757142">After Oakden</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingFaintly/pseuds/FallingFaintly'>FallingFaintly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Screenplay/Script Format, Troubled Blood Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:28:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>828</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28757142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingFaintly/pseuds/FallingFaintly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ok, so, this is meant to be a guess at how the TV adaptation might play out ch58 of Troubled Blood, based on the way the chemistry between the two leads onscreen has been much more overt than in the books, for sensible dramatic reasons. On screen, it's about show, not tell, and we can't see into their heads like we can when reading, so I am sticking my neck out and suggesting they are going to pull something like this because it's ratings gold after the build up of the first 4 adaptations. Love to know what you think after you've read it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>After Oakden</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I haven't written a script for nigh-on 25 years, so my format is probably all wrong, but it's clear enough for this piece.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[Scene: Denmark Street, late afternoon. A black cab pulls up, and Strike and Robin emerge, Strike holding a white plastic bag full of indian takeaway, Robin holding tissues to her wounded eye.]</p>
<p>[Cut to the door of Strike’s Office opening and Strike coming through first, flinging the takeaway onto the kitchenette surface. Robin follows, moving carefully, evidently in pain.]</p>
<p>Strike: I’m so fucking sorry, Robin.</p>
<p>Robin: Oh for god’s sake, Strike, stop. </p>
<p>Strike: Right. </p>
<p>[He pulls out plates and cutlery and divides the contents of each foil tray onto them, hurriedly. Robin moves to sit on the sofa]</p>
<p>Robin: Can I have a whisky, numb the pain a bit?</p>
<p>Strike: Shit, yeah. </p>
<p>[He fetches her a measure]</p>
<p>Strike: I’m so sorry. Are you sure you don’t want to go to A&amp;E?</p>
<p>Robin, sharply: Yes. I just want some food, and some whisky and for you to not apologize for the 17th time!</p>
<p>[Strike, chastened, moves back to fetch the plates. He hands Robin one, bringing Robin’s chair round from behind her desk to sit nearer, but not next to Robin on the sofa. He is wary, but desperate to redeem himself after the altercation with Oakden.]</p>
<p>Robin: Thanks.</p>
<p>[A beat between them as she drops her hand from her eye, and Strike takes in the swelling and bruising that he caused without intent.]</p>
<p>Strike, horrified: Christ.</p>
<p>Robin: That’s comforting, ta.</p>
<p>Strike: Sorr… it’s not that bad. </p>
<p>Robin: Liar</p>
<p>Strike: Honestly. You’ve had worse injuries. I just… I just feel awful. I lost it. I can’t believe I let him…</p>
<p>Robin: No, neither can I, to be honest. If you’d told me that Rokeby’s party was in the same venue…</p>
<p>Strike: I know, I know. It was a set up and I should have seen it coming.</p>
<p>[Robin seems satisfied for the moment, eating and wincing as she chews. Her expression of pain prompts Strike to be uncharacteristically talkative as he also eats, perhaps to distract her from the pain]</p>
<p>Strike: Rokeby invited me months ago. He’s had Al badgering me to go along for a ‘family reunion’. Like we’re a ‘family’. I haven’t seen him since I went to Uni, and I’ve got no intention of playing the grieving son now.</p>
<p>Robin: Grieving?</p>
<p>Strike: Cancer. So he says. I don’t care. What? Why should I care? He’s never given two shits about me, setting Gillespie on me to pay back a loan from my own inheritance…</p>
<p>Robin: Gillespie was from Rokeby? He loaned you your own money?</p>
<p>Strike: I didn’t want his money. I just didn’t have any other way of starting this up without it, and Charlotte...</p>
<p>[He falls silent. He’s lost his taste for food and puts the plate down, picking up his own glass of whisky and drinking]</p>
<p>Robin: I heard she was in hospital.</p>
<p>Strike, sighing: Yeah. </p>
<p>[A beat. Strike seems to be thinking, and then stands and walks to the window. The light from outside is the only light coming in to the room now]</p>
<p>Strike: She… she tried to top herself. Not the first time. She phoned me. I had to borrow another phone to get the ambulance. Fucking mess.</p>
<p>Robin: Christ, Strike, that’s… that’s awful</p>
<p>[Strike turns back to look at Robin, smiling a small smile acknowledging her kind words]</p>
<p>Robin: You know, you don’t have to keep all this to yourself. We’re partners. You can talk to me. </p>
<p>[Strike moves back towards her, this time sitting next to her on the sofa]</p>
<p>Strike: I know. You’re right. And I will. I just didn’t want… you’ve had a lot on your plate, with the divorce and the new place, and this is all..</p>
<p>Robin: All what? Too much for me? I’ve faced down worse than a divorce. You think after everything I can’t handle hearing about your family or your ex...</p>
<p>Strike: No, I just… It’s not easy, is it? Talking about things you’d rather forget. I’m not proud it’s led to this.</p>
<p>[He motions to her black eye. She winces, bringing her hand up automatically]</p>
<p>Strike: Sorry.</p>
<p>[She shoots him a look]</p>
<p>Strike: I just meant about reminding you. </p>
<p>[She smiles]</p>
<p>Robin: It’ll be all right with some ibuprofen. You’re right, I’ve had worse. Perils of knowing you.</p>
<p>Strike: Yeah. I’m a dangerous man to be mates with.</p>
<p>Robin: Nick and Ilsa seem to be unscathed so far. But then, they’re your best mates.</p>
<p>Strike: Nah. My best mate… is you.</p>
<p>[A beat. Robin takes in what Strike has just said. Strike takes in what Strike has just said. They look at each other, tension palpable]</p>
<p>Robin: The… the feeling’s mutual.</p>
<p>[They’re closer than before now, and almost imperceptibly, they begin to lean in to each other, eyes locked. A kiss seems inevitable.]</p>
<p>[The main light flicks on]</p>
<p>Barclay: Is there a power cut?</p>
<p>[They spring apart, flushed.]</p>
<p>Barclay, to Robin: How the fuck d’ye get a chimney like that?</p>
<p>[Robin and Strike look at one another]</p>
<p>[End scene]</p>
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